


For Want of a Bottle of Wine

by Ass_Sass_and_Sin



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: But Taken Seriously, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rapidly becoming crackfic, Time Travel, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23434882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ass_Sass_and_Sin/pseuds/Ass_Sass_and_Sin
Summary: Time is relative, and when Desmond's relatives start traveling through time, things start getting a little strange. All he wanted was a bottle of wine, but in the end, Desmond will get a lot more than he bargained for.Based on the Quarantine Quest fic prompts on r/fanfiction.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 74





	1. For Want of a Bottle of Wine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1: It started with a strong drink.

“All I’m saying, Des”—  _ hic _ —“all I’m saying is that, perhaps you should… should….”

Whatever Shaun thought Desmond should do was anybody’s guess. Shaun, his head swimming from his last swig of wine, was now completely engrossed by the moon rising over the horizon, and was oblivious to whatever he’d been saying not a moment before.

Desmond took a drink from the same bottle. “I should what?”

“Hm?”

“You were telling me what I should do.”

“Oh, I dunno, mate. Not like it matters. You never”—  _ hic _ —“listen to what I have to say anyways.”

Desmond shrugged. He wasn’t wrong.

They sat on the roof of the Auditore Villa in comfortable silence — save for Shaun’s occasional hiccups — and watched the moon as it rose higher into the night sky. Every minute or so they’d pass the bottle of wine between the two of them until Shaun tipped the bottle up only to realize it was empty.

“Bollocks.”

“Think any stores are open this late in Monteriggioni?”

Shaun groaned. “Probably not.”

“Well, only one way to find out, right?”

“That’s”—  _ hic _ —“that’s a terrible idea. You know you’re supposed to stay”—  _ hic _ —“out of sight. Bloody hiccups.”

“Oh come on, Shaun. I’ve been stuck inside for what feels like months now. You think Abstergo is sitting around at a grocery store in the middle of small-town Italy waiting for me to show up? If you don’t wanna come, that’s fine. I can go by myself.” Desmond stood up and made towards the edge of the rooftop.

“No, no. You’re not going alone. I can’t very well return to the Sanctuary empty-handed now, can I? Lucy and Rebecca would have my head if I let you go alone.” Shaun followed after Desmond, nearly losing his balance in the process. Sloped rooftops were not conducive to walking while drunk.

Now adept at free-climbing, Desmond had no problem scaling down the wall, even after half a bottle of wine. One, two, three quick drops and a small jump later Desmond was safely on the ground. Shaun, on the other hand….

“A little help, please?” Desmond looked up to see Shaun’s legs dangling comedically as his feet failed to find a ledge. There was no way this was going to end well. Desmond scaled the wall once more, stopping just below Shaun’s feet. He grabbed one and put it on a ledge. One step at a time, Desmond helped Shaun down the wall.

“Alright, just another couple feet.” Back on the ground, Desmond watched as Shaun… slipped and fell. The force of the fall knocked him backwards into Desmond, who tripped over Shaun’s feet and they tumbled to the ground together.

Red from embarrassment, Shaun pushed himself off Desmond.

Not to be deterred, Desmond stood and brushed himself off. “Come on, let’s go see if the store is still open.”

“Do we have to now?” Shaun groaned, pushing himself to his feet.

“More wine will make you feel better….” Desmond saw his tempting start to work.

Shaun deliberated for a moment, then relented. “Just…don’t tell Rebecca”— _ hic _ —”what happened, okay?”

Desmond had no intention of telling Rebecca. But Shaun never said he couldn’t tell  _ Lucy _ ….


	2. The Lorentz Lockup

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: I can't believe I'm sitting in jail with you of all people.

“What part of ‘stay out of sight’ eluded you, Desmond?” Lucy was now laying into him for the — Desmond checked his watch — fourth time in the past hour. As much as he wanted to escape her wrath, he couldn’t. None of them could, not while they sat in what he assumed was Monteriggioni’s only jail cell.

All Desmond and Shaun wanted was another bottle of wine, but when they didn’t return quickly enough, Lucy and Rebecca thought it best to go searching for them. Only none of them had counted on a night patrolman seeing them “lurking” (as Shaun later translated) around an historic site and promptly arresting them for trespassing just as Shaun and Desmond had returned.

The good news, as Desmond tried to point out between Lucy’s shouts, was that it seemed as though they were assumed to be just stupid tourists who couldn’t be bothered to read a sign and, as far as they knew, nobody had noticed their little setup in the Sanctuary. Assuming they were released in the morning, all would be well.

That didn’t stop Lucy from going on a rant about how careless and reckless they had been to leave the Villa at all. What was worse, the stores had all closed by the time Shaun and Desmond had reached the town, so not only were they stuck with an angry Lucy (and to a lesser extent, Rebecca) but now they were also sober. Could this get any worse?

Desmond regretted the thought as soon as he had it. With less warning than usual, his vision started to swim and Lucy’s berating drifted away. He looked around and found himself no longer sitting next to Lucy, Rebecca, and Shaun, but Ezio and two other Assassins he didn’t recognize. One, a burly man with dark features. Even sitting down he seemed to tower above everyone. The other, smaller built than the other with lighter features, his attire more that of a pirate than an Assassin.

Hoping to ground himself back in reality, Desmond looked down, only to find that his jacket and jeans had been replaced by long robes and loose trousers. A bracer now covered his left forearm and a blade protruded from a gap where his ring finger should be.

_ Shit, _ he groaned internally.  _ Here we go again…. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I definitely read the prompt as “in jail with all of you people” not "you of all people" and ran with it. Oh well. Also, this is definitely getting a little crackier than I’d anticipated.


	3. If You Give a Pirate Rum...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: It is, in fact, a dark and stormy night…
> 
> A quick recap of the last 2 chapters since it's been a while since I've posted: Desmond and Shaun went to search for a bottle of wine in Monteriggioni, shenanigans ensued and the two of them along with Lucy and Rebecca got arrested. While sitting in jail, Desmond starts to experience the Bleeding Effect and, well, here's what he experiences (or does he?):

Cannon fire mixed with thunder and the ship pitched and rolled as the storm and battle raged on outside. From inside the Spanish frigate, it was impossible to tell whether the flashes of light came from the sky or the firefight on the upper decks, and every so often the clanging of swords clashing together was drowned out by a sharp crack of lightning hitting the nearby seas.

Locked in the brig below deck, Altaïr’s queasy stomach was only made worse by the lurching of the ship and the smell of smoke that slowly perfused the cell. If it bothered Ezio, Connor, or Edward, they made no mention of it.

As if on cue, a cannonball tore through the lower deck just as Altaïr vomited on the floor. From across the dark cell, Ezio muttered a sharp “ _cazzo._ ”

While knocked loose by fortuitous circumstances, the gate to the cell was still jammed shut, and it took Connor barreling into it and sending it crashing to the floor to finally liberate the four Assassins. “Let’s go,” he said, dusting himself off and leading them out of the cell.

Keen to get out of the dank prison, Altaïr hurried along the length of the swaying ship behind Connor, who had to stoop low so as to not hit his head on any of the beams overhead, and Ezio, who when Altaïr saw him in the lamplight looked a little nauseous himself. Just as they reached a ladder leading to the upper deck they heard Edward, still down by the galley, call over to them.

“Lads, look what I’ve found!” He could barely contain the excitement in his voice as he rolled out a barrel from behind a pillar, the word RUM painted in white just barely visible in the darkness. “Help me haul some of this topside and onto the Jackdaw.”

Altaïr looked between Connor and Ezio, and all three of them stared back at Edward in disbelief. “Your ship is under attack, we’re in the middle of a hurricane, this ship is likely on fire and sinking fast, and you want us to waste precious time stealing their rum?”

Edward stared blankly, as though the answer was obvious. “The crew is plenty capable of dealing with the soldiers. It’s just a storm, not a hurricane. And it’s _rum_. Now here, make yourself useful and grab this barrel.” Altaïr rolled his eyes. He saw Ezio do the same as Edward pushed the first barrel their way.

“Come on,” Connor groaned. “Let’s just get these to the Jackdaw before the ship sinks.”

One by one, Edward rolled, Connor hoisted and Ezio passed off the barrels to Altaïr to roll across the gangway onto the Jackdaw. Soldiers attempted to cut Altaïr down as he pushed barrel after barrel, but even still he was too quick and one by one soldiers fell to his blade. After what felt like the hundredth barrel, Ezio pulled yet another one up onto the deck. “Hurry, Altaïr. You are falling behind.”

“Next time,” Altaïr hissed back, another soldier coming at him, “ _you_ can fend off enemies while also trying to move the unnecessary goods.”

“Fine, but keep moving. Edward is almost finished and the ship is on fire.”

From below deck, Altaïr heard Connor’s irritated voice. “You’re both slow. Pick up the pace.”

With the last barrel came Ezio, Connor and finally, Edward through the hatch, all three of them running as though their lives depended on it. Altaïr, seeing small fires spreading across the upper deck, quickly followed suit

“Time to cut and run, lads! We’ll be dead in the water if we don’t get clear of her before she blows!”

With Edward’s command, the four Assassins and the few crew members left on the Spanish frigate hurried back to the Jackdaw and began toiling away at the first ropes they came across. Another crack of lightning split the dark sky as wind caught in the mainsail and the Jackdaw crept forward, lurching over a large swell and pulling away from the frigate just as it exploded into a blaze of wood and iron.

Fiery fragments of the ship drifted downward and Altaïr watched as vigilant deckhands tossed buckets of water onto the smoldering pieces as they landed on the Jackdaw, lest the brig itself turn into a box of flaming tinder.

At the helm, Edward took the wheel and in the dark Altaïr saw him bend down to pick something up, but it took another flash of lightning to illuminate it enough to see it was… a bottle of rum. Altaïr, Ezio and Connor shared a look of exasperation.

With a triumphant grin, Edward took a long swig from the bottle. “Anybody care for a drink?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, definitely getting crackier. I guess that's what happens when you try to fill random prompts that don't really connect and try to make them make sense together.


	4. Ratonhnhaké:ton’s Razor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Character A has changed something about their appearance and Character B cannot for the life of them figure out what it is.

Much to everyone’s relief the rain stopped pouring down and the seas began to settle shortly after the Assassins’ escape from the Spanish frigate. As the Jackdaw’s crew continued adjusting the sails to navigate them further away from the wreckage, Connor, Altaïr and Ezio began the arduous task of loading the barrels of rum they had stolen into the hold. They moved quickly, eager for some respite and knowing that the sooner they finished the sooner they could take a bunk and rest for the night.

As Connor waited for Altaïr to give the signal for Ezio to pull the pallet out from the bowels of the ship, he pulled his hood down and wiped the sweat from his brow. He took a moment to close his eyes as a cool breeze ran across his bare scalp. When he opened them again, he saw Edward sitting on another barrel, staring at him from beneath a hanging lantern, a bottle of rum in his hand. Edward lifted the bottle to his lips and narrowed his eyes.

Connor loaded the next set of barrels onto the pallet, but the feeling of eyes on his head never went away. When he looked up the next time, Edward was still watching him intently. “What are you staring at?”

“Something seems different about you. Did you get taller?”

Now it was Connor’s turn to narrow his eyes. “No?”

“Hm. Change your robes?”

Connor looked between Altaïr and Ezio in disbelief. Could Edward really not tell what was different about him? Altaïr and Ezio had certainly noticed, even complimented him on it the next time they saw him.

He was relieved to see that he wasn’t alone in his disbelief.

Altaïr looked back at Edward with concern. “Do you really not see what he’s done?”

Edward just shrugged and took another swig.

Ezio, fed up with Edward and his nonsense, marched over and snatched the bottle from his hands. “He shaved his head you  _ idiota _ ! Now help us with these barrels that  _ you _ insisted we take!” 

Edward looked disparagingly at Ezio then glanced at Connor, finally noticing that in place of the long mane he once sported, Connor only had a strip of hair down the center, the sides completely shaved. “Huh. Well I’ll be damned, he did shave his head. Looks nice.”

“Now that we’ve settled this,” Altaïr groused, Edward and the others getting on his last nerve. “ _ Can we finally get these barrels put away _ ?”


	5. General Synchronicity

Ezio was glad to finally fall back into one of the rickety bunks that night. Even the uneven swaying of the Jackdaw wasn’t enough to keep him awake for long and soon he found himself drifting to sleep.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself lying on the floor of a cavernous room. He recognized the intricate design of the domed ceiling immediately, though the damage it seemed to have sustained was new. Large sections of stone were missing, and when he turned his head to the side he noticed that they now lay strewn across the floor of the Sanctuary. Other strange artifacts now filled the Sanctuary as well: tables and chairs that looked as though they were from another world, black crates made from a material like nothing he’d ever seen. Up close they had the rough texture of leather but the hardness of steel. Metal strips covered the edges, though even this metal seemed foreign to Ezio. Long, colorful tubes wound across the floor, leading to various devices that Ezio wouldn’t have dreamt up in his wildest imagination. Tiny lights flickered on these devices, though even in the darkness Ezio could tell these were no ordinary flames. Ezio had seen similar things in only one place before: the Apple.

He supposed this must be some distant future, long after he was gone from the world.

“... well enough to go back into the Animus. There’s still a lot that Ezio can tell us, I’m sure of it.” A tall, grey haired man entered the sanctuary first. He was even older than Ezio by the looks of it and had the demeanor of a man in charge. A young woman with black hair and a strange headpiece that covered her ears followed close behind. Upon entering the Sanctuary she immediately made towards a strange red and white chair that sat in the very center of the room. Ezio watched as she tapped her fingers on a device (this one also connected to the rest by colorful tubes) and examined the changes made to the strange window in front of her. Ezio thought he could make out letters and numbers, but how they appeared before her was like magic.

Three more people entered the Sanctuary: a woman with sharp features and fair hair pulled taut, a man with cropped hair and glasses, and a third man, tall and lean with even shorter dark hair and unconscious by the look of it, who was being half-carried by the other two.

The fair-haired woman and man with glasses dragged this third man to the same red and white chair the dark-haired woman sat near. Ezio couldn’t explain why, but he felt some strange connection with the unconscious man, as though they’d met before. But where? Ezio didn’t know.

“ _Buonasera_ ,” Ezio called out to the group. None of them answered and in fact, none of them even turned his direction. “Can any of you hear me?”

“Lucy,” the older man faced the light-haired woman, “why don’t you and I get to packing everything up?” He turned to the other two that had walked in behind him. “Rebecca can keep an eye on Desmond while Shaun grabs the van. I have a bad feeling about staying here after this debacle and think we should move on.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, each of them did as asked and hurried to complete their tasks.

“Desmond,” Ezio whispered to himself. He’d heard the name once before, when Minerva appeared beneath the Vatican. She’d turned and spoken to a phantom, or so Ezio thought. Had Desmond really been there? Had he been listening in, an invisible ghost, just as Ezio was now? Watching but unable to interact? 

And yet, the connection he felt between himself and the unconscious man in the center of the room went deeper than that. A sense of kinship, as though they’d met before. But that was impossible. It was obvious that he came from a distant future, one that Ezio would never see except through a Piece of Eden.

And so Ezio watched like some guardian angel over Desmond and the others as they made preparations to leave the Sanctuary. Strange, Ezio thought. There was a time when he, too, had to flee from the Sanctuary. Was it really a sanctuary at all?

He’d contemplated that for a minute when Rebecca’s voice cut through the disarray everyone’s packing caused.

“Hey guys, he’s waking up! Desmond, can you hear us?”

As Desmond began to open his eyes, Ezio felt a strange phenomenon, as though his very essence was slowly drifting away. Was Desmond’s awakening killing him? When he looked down at himself he realized with horror his own body vanishing before his very eyes.

He looked around, hoping to find something to stop it from happening and locked eyes with Desmond.

No that was silly, Ezio thought. None of them could see him. He just happened to be standing right in front of Desmond, that’s all. Standing in front of his natural line of sight. 

And yet when their eyes met there was no mistaking Desmond’s eyebrows pulling together in visible confusion. To be sure, Ezio stretched out his fading arm, reaching towards Desmond. 

Desmond mirrored the motion, looking even more baffled than before. Ezio tried calling out to him but nothing came out, and as Desmond’s eyes seemed to refocus on his companions, Ezio felt himself drift away….


	6. The Sleeper Awakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6: When the cat’s away, the mice will play. The problem is, the cat always comes back…
> 
> Sorry for the delay in the new chapter, life and things have been getting a little hectic lately. If you've stuck around thus far, thanks for your patience! Hope you enjoy :)

Desmond’s head throbbed as he came to, though it was hard to tell if it was the Bleeding Effect or the worst hangover of his life. And as a former bartender, that was saying something. As he opened his eyes, he saw that across the Sanctuary stood a shadowy figure he recognized.

_ Ezio. _

He blinked, hoping it would disappear and when it didn’t, he groaned.  _ Bleeding Effect, it is then.  _ He blinked a few more times, and Ezio’s form came into better view, though as Desmond’s mind cleared Ezio began to slowly disappear.

Desmond wasn’t unaccustomed to hallucinations of his ancestors, far from it in fact, but this one was different from the rest. Most of the figures that appeared ignored him, but this figure stared straight back at him, eyes focused and intense. Desmond raised his hand to point at the silent figure, and...the figure pointed back.

_ How the f—  _

“He’s waking up! Desmond, can you hear us?”

Desmond turned his head to see Rebecca standing over him, greeting him with her usual, bright smile. Behind her, Shaun and Lucy were in the midst of packing the equipment. He looked back at the shadow. It was gone.

“Do you see something?” Rebecca asked, staring at the spot where Ezio had been.

“Huh? Oh, no. Just another hallucination, I guess.”

“Another one?” a stern voice asked from behind him.

Desmond tensed. It had been a decade since Desmond had last heard that same gruffness barking orders at him but it wasn’t one he was bound to ever forget. He turned in the seat of the Animus to see his father, William Miles, standing a few feet away, arms crossed and face set in a scowl. 

His hair and beard had grayed in the past ten years and several more wrinkles now creased his forehead but his eyes were as piercing as ever, as if they could read Desmond’s every thought. It set Desmond even more on edge and he felt a small shiver of dread at this unprompted reunion. Behind William, the other three watched in anticipation.

_ Some things never change _ , Desmond thought with an internal sigh. Still, if ever there was a time to extend an olive branch…

“Hey, Dad,” he said.  _ Keep it light. _ “How’ve you been?” 

“Hmph,” Bill scoffed and threw a bag towards him. 

Desmond caught it with a grunt.  _ So much for that…. _

“Start packing. Thanks to your little adventure into town last night, we have to hide out elsewhere.” Bill stomped off, carrying a large crate up the stairs.

Was that really only last night? It felt like ages ago. That explained the headache, anyways. Or maybe it was seeing his father again that gave him the headache. Or the hallucinations. _ Probably a mix of all three. _

Desmond opened his mouth to argue, but across the room Lucy shook her head in warning. So apparently Bill had been in a sour mood for a while now. Great.

As he stood up from the Animus he took a deep breath and started tossing things into boxes haphazardly, his mind still on Ezio and the dream ( _ or was it a vision? _ ) he’d been having just before. Desmond remembered being in the jail cell with the rest of the team, then next thing he knew, he was with Altair, no, he  _ was _ Altair, and he was sitting alongside Ezio and two other Assassins he hadn’t recognized. He racked his brain for their names.  _ Christopher? Cooper? No. _ He thought for another moment.  _ Connor, that was it! And... Edward. _ And they were on a ship, bound somewhere they had no intention of going. Fortunately, Edward’s ship appeared in the nick of time and they escaped. Last thing he remembered was being Ezio and falling asleep….

What a strange dream. Or was it? He remembered falling into the Bleeding Effect in the jail, but this was… different. He hadn’t just been Altair or Ezio, he’d been both of them  _ and  _ Connor, someone whose life he’d never experienced before. And on top of that, they’d all interacted with each other. Usually his hallucinations were almost exact replays of events that had happened in his ancestors’ lifetimes. But that wasn’t possible. Altair and Ezio at least lived several hundred years apart, and the other two looked like they were from other time periods as well. There was no way they could all meet, surely….

Every minute or two Desmond would steal another glance to where Ezio had been standing, hoping to see him once more. But if his ancestor was still there, he couldn’t see him.

“You alright, mate? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Shaun put a hand on Desmond’s shoulder, bringing him back to reality. His brow was furrowed and he watched Desmond with curiosity, as though half expecting him to hallucinate again already.

“No more ghosts than usual,” he said, laughing nervously. “How are  _ you _ holding up? Drink too much last night?”

“Oh me? Right as rain. A little bit of booze never slowed me down.”

“Except this morning when you had to have a bucket brought to the jail cell so you wouldn’t puke over all of us,” Rebecca reminded him.

Shaun scoffed. “You can’t prove that.”

“Glad I missed that. Maybe this —” Desmond gestured to his head— “was a good thing.”

“Oh sure, maybe it is a good thing you’re slowly losing your mind and are seeing dead people. That never ends poorly, does it?”

“Shaun,” Lucy warned him.

“Stop bickering and keep packing,” Bill ordered, returning to the Sanctuary. “We don’t have much time before Abstergo finds out we’re here.”

Furtive glances were shared across the room but everyone obeyed, packing whatever was within reach. In less than an hour, all their gear was packed and loaded into the van and, after saying a quick goodbye to yet another hideout, they were out of Monteriggioni and driving north along empty Tuscan roads.


End file.
